


Light as a Feather

by robotfvckers



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Edgeplay, Fae & Fairies, Feathers & Featherplay, M/M, Macro/Micro, Masturbation, Teasing, Young Genji Shimada, fairy zenyatta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-10
Updated: 2017-12-10
Packaged: 2019-02-12 22:42:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12969969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robotfvckers/pseuds/robotfvckers
Summary: Genji tires of his pet’s gentle teasing and decides to do some teasing of his own.





	Light as a Feather

Genji can’t stand it anymore. For weeks, he’s watched his tiny pet, endlessly enraptured by the fae’s every move, distracting in a way that tears down Genji’s restraint. Zenyatta has to be doing it on purpose, shifting his hips just so, letting his robes slide off his shoulders or bundle at his waist, showing the human who owns him just how little power he had over the fae.

It is early morning, and Zenyatta faces the window, folded in lotus. He meditates each day, and Genji rises with him to watch, only in amusement at first, as if the fae was just a doll that did many cute tricks, but later in quiet fascination. He always looks so serene, eyes lowered and nearly closed, framed by delicate red markings, full lips half-open as he breathes.

Even now, Zenyatta is so _composed_ , and Genji’s gentle, desperate annoyance gives birth to an idea. He slides out of bed and opens the drawer of his bedside table, unearthing the sparrow’s feather his father had given him when he was a boy.

Genji clutches it between forefinger and thumb, mind already buzzing with intent as he steps quietly closer. Sometimes, like this, Zenyatta is so focused he is unaware of his surroundings. He wonders when the fae became so trustful, how he could live among humans and be so confident in his existence.

He shakes his head and slides into the low, ornate chair next to the desk where Zenyatta sits. The morning light paints the planes of his body in oranges and golds, a creature at peace within his element. The sight makes Genji hesitate until he remembers every time Zenyatta had left him off-kilter and heated with his heart thundering against his ribs. The feeling takes over him now, and he acts without thought, traces the tip of the sparrow’s feather beneath Zenyatta’s chin.

The fae’s eyes snap open, round and near comically wide, then he laughs, the soft chimes rattling Genji further. His tiny hands grab at the barbs, shifting them away from his throat, smiling wide as another bout of laughter catches him.

 _Ticklish_ , Genji swallows.

He bites his tongue, shifting the feather lower, and the robes slip from his shoulders so easily as he traces between the loose fabric, exposing Zenaytta’s thin, tawny body and small, dusky nipples, no bigger than drops of dew. He drags the barbs between the gentle swell of his chest, and Zenyatta’s laughter falters, and this, _this_ is what Genji craved. The fae’s eyes grown soft and large, mouth caught on a soft chime as the feather just grazes a tender nipple.

The heat in Genji’s face immediately pools lower, mouth gone dry at the fae’s reactions. He twists the feather, the barbs catching around the fae’s peaked nipple, teasing the sensitive flesh, and Zenyatta flushes all the way down his chest; hands that were resting upon his thighs now twist to catch the fabric between his fingers.

Zenyatta can’t decide whether to look up at Genji or down at his own lap, finally staring at the human’s face between his eyelashes, chiming as Genji continues to tease him, flicking the feather back and forth between his nipples, dipping down his quivering stomach, pressing harder until the barbs split, framing his nipples between them.

How Genji wants to tease and pluck at Zenyatta’s body with his own hands, taste and tease his nipples until the fae cries with pleasure, but he’s not sure in his state he could be careful enough. What if he crushed him? Hurt his wings, as delicate as the glass and gold foil they mimic. Instead, he cups his cock through his sweatpants and bites his lip and imagines lapping so very gently over each soft peak, teasing his tongue between his strong, quaking thighs, suckling on his pretty cock like a piece of candy.

He lets the feather do it for him, nudging the robes as far as they will go, _tsking_ when the knot at Zenyatta’s waist holds fast.

The fae startles him with a small, shaky smile, grabbing at the feather’s barbs and dragging it back along his nipples, and Genji stares, open-mouthed, at this tiny, capricious monk, moaning when Zenyatta gently pulls the ties of his own robes until the fabric falls around him. Genji drinks in the sight of his long, pretty cock, pearled and beading just beneath his navel, tongue swelling with the need to taste.

Genji palms his cock harder, hastily tugging the hem of his sweatpants down, grabbing at its base and holding as Zenyatta trembles and chirps at the lazy twisting of the feather, cock twitching at the barely-there presses. He swallows, leaning forward, so close his breath disturbs Zenyatta’s robes.

Slowly, so slowly, he drags the feather back down his body, and in a motion that shocks a moan from them both, passes it just over Zenyatta’s cockhead, tracing the very tip of the feather around his leaking tip.

A small hand shoots up, covering his mouth as Zenyatta trembles, trying in vain to still his hips, but Genji rolls the soft, damp barbs over his cock again, and the fae chases the sensation, whimpering into his palm. He wants to tease Zenyatta with words, but he doesn’t want to break the silence, so zeroed in upon the tiny creature he doesn’t notice the bead of sweat rolling down his temple.

His hand is feather-light upon his own cock, the barest catch and drag into his calloused palm, swallowing his moans in an effort to hear Zenyatta’s soft cries. The fae angles back, chasing the feather as Genji twists and lets off, watching Zenyatta’s cock bob, angry-red and leaking. The next time Genji lets Zenyatta’s cock slip between the barbs, endless, ticklish friction that does little more than frustrate the small one, face flushed to the tips of his ears.

Genji goes so slowly, doesn’t know how much time passes until the fae’s motions grow desperate, each ticklish grind bringing him so close but never over. Tears prick each amber eye, though Zenyatta never reaches between his own thighs and takes himself in hand. A single touch would be enough, Genji thinks, having to grab at the base of his cock ands squeeze to keep himself from coming.

He could flip the feather, run the stiff spine along his cock, have him spill over the sparrow’s feather in cute, little bursts. Instead, he strokes the feather down his cock once more, Zenyatta’s chimes near dissonant and crazed, the soft down at the base of the feather tickling his balls, before Genji pulls away completely.

Zenyatta stares at him, eyes glassy, unseeing, perhaps, when Genji presses the tip of one, calloused finger against Zenyatta’s cock. The note Zenyatta hits rings in his ears as his hands, the pricks of his tiny, rounded nails, sink into his skin. His cock is so wet and warm, dragging against his finger, once, twice, spilling in a hot gush as Zenyatta jerks and sobs into his skin.

Genji almost bends double as his own orgasm hits him like a blow, but he keeps his eyes on Zenyatta, long ropes of cum spurting from his cock with an intensity that embarrasses him later, when he has the mind to think about it. He feels like he’s run a marathon as the aftershocks steal his breath, mindlessly staring at a long, thick line of cum that managed to get on the table. He swallows, tries to catch his breath, withdraw from the delirious buzz of his orgasm, his whole body tight and trembling with it.

Zenyatta’s hold on his finger finally lessens, but still he does not let go. Instead, Genji lets the fae move his hand, chest squeezing in a vice when Zenyatta nuzzles into palm, panting and looking at him with a quiet smile.

The smile turns deviant as Zenyatta traces a finger through the nearby stripe of Genji’s cum and brings it to his tiny mouth, small pink tongue flicking out to taste it. Genji’s cock gives a traitorous twitch; Zenyatta had outwitted him again.

Yet, as he watches Zenyatta settle more comfortably in the palm of his hand, Genji realizes that he doesn’t mind so much.


End file.
